Some Variety Of Moron
Unicron's Head Inside this once-proud head, a larger chamber opens before you. It is dimly lit by violet-tinged starlight, with shadowed tunnels and crevices that lead to unknown regions. There is an almost expectant stillness in the air. Those with much to fear from Unicron might imagine a faraway voice carried upon the silence, whispering threats from beyond the grave. But those who had a different experience with the Chaos Bringer might hear a word of reassurance echoing in the dim chamber. Any tunnels that might lead beyond this chamber have been collapsed by the explosion that took Unicron's life. This quiet chamber of remembrance is all that is left of the mighty Unicron. Contents: Fleet Dreadwind Mixmaster Catechism reflects that she is quite possibly some variety of moron for agreeing to let Mixmaster experiment on her armour. She'd say it seemed like it was a good idea at the time, but it really wasn't, even then. She stands in the main chamber inside Unicron's head, listening to the bleak whispers. It's just misfiring circuits, she tells herself. Unicron is dead. (How dead?) He can't possibly be upset about Neocron. She takes a look back at the team assembled, and then she strides forward, explaining, "We'll need to go into one of the collapsed areas. Could be dangerous. However, Unicron's head is the only reliable source of the high density alloy ingredients required... or so I am told." Fleet reflects that he is quite possibly some variety of moron for agreeing to accompany Catechism here. Just what does he get out of it? She's the one who may get the armor improvement (and considering that it's a Mixmaster experiment, that's highly chancy, anyway). He stands near Catechism, glancing around, his nervousness showing quite obviously. "Well, I'm not much for opening up collapsed areas, but I'll be happy to stand back and watch the rest of you risk your lives." Appearing as delighted as a kid in a candy store, Mixmaster is eagering examining a buttress holding up the cieling of the structure, running his hands along the metal's surface. "Oh, what a delight it shall be to collect samples from some of the SEALED CHAMBERS within Unicron's cranial structure..." He says giddily, interspered with bubbly giggles, which echo strangely in the ruined chamber. "We may find alloys UNKNOWN TO SCIENCE! Muwaha!" Dreadwind stands there staring into the dark recesses waiting for the inevitable horde of ravening things that will come for them all, Hi-Test perched safely on his shoulder. "It whispers so gently, so softly almost like a promise, but it is all a lie there there is only death, his and then ours, we won't be leaving here. If the malfunctioning internal defences don't get us the creatures that have taken up residence here surely will." Hi-Test sighs and shakes his head, "Just don't forget the other reason we came along okay Dreadwind." Scavenger was dragged along on this errand; he's really more of a dupe than a moron. That's what he presumes, anyway, despite the fact that he has been called both. He hangs back behind Mixmaster, looking up at the ceiling, tormented by the whispers. They speak to him of his comrades and their hatred for him. They tell him how much stronger than all of them he is, and that he should gut them all while they recharge. He hears neither Mixmaster nor Dreadwind as he is transfixed. When he finally regains his grasp on reality, he finds he doesn't remember why he's here. He doesn't ask, less somebody punch him. Catechism won't put Fleet into her own grave for not attending her funeral if he nicely accompanies her here now. That is what Fleet gets. Catechism pulls out one of her grenades, tossing it from hand to hand absently, and she explains, "I can blow open one of these sections. Mixmaster, tell Scavenger what you're looking for. Then Scavenger, point us in the general direction using your highly sensitive shovel." "Ah. Well, I'll stand over here," Fleet gestures away from the collapsed area. "At least until the smoke clears." "Ya hear that, Mix?" chortles Bonecrusher, bringing up the rear with a clank and a clatter. "Scav's gonna save the day widdis 'highly sensitive shovel,'" he mocks. Scavenger sags a bit and nods. "I don't know about saving the day. But I'll find the Plotholium, you can count on that." He transforms and readies his his shovel, "but you won't." He calibrates his sensors for a similar substance, since he has no samples of Plotholium on file. With a familiar sound, Scavenger droops into the form of a green and purple excavator! Dreadwind waits, apparently miserable (happy) to let Catechism take the lead in this operation, he sighs, "This is all such a waste of effort no matter what materials we find or what we learn about our troops it will all be for nothing when only one of us will escape, mangled and broken to tell of the horrors that are still lurking in here." Hi-Test smirks at his partner's assessment of the situation and remains silent, after all he knows who it is that Dreadwind thinks will escape. It seems Mixmaster will have to step up and keep the Constucts in line, without a Hook or Scrapper present. Mixmaster gazes one last time at the beautiful mettalic finish in the buttress, before turning to Scavenger and Bonecrusher. "Scavenger, we will be looking for lightweight superalloys containing special isotopes of Titanium and Hafnium, possibly in conjuction with Niobium. when you have located a source, we will send in BONECRUSHER to clear a path through the rubble!" "That's right, the HARD work," agrees Bonecrusher proudly, punching his fist into his palm. Catechism drifts over to Bonecrusher, and she speculates, "I don't want to cave in any of the tunnels, and the collapsed debris might be all that's holding them up, so I'm thinking a shaped charge in the weaker looking upper corner, so that the roof will fall on an angle, run into a wall, and keep standing, after the debris is loosened by the explosion." She gestures as she speaks. "Will that work? Or do you want to do the charges yourself, in addition to the clearing?" Fleet hmmms as Catechism expresses her uncertainty when it comes to safely clearing tunnels. He considers Bonecrusher's tendency to bring buildings down on himself. He edges a little further away from the group. Hi-Test nods as he listens to Mixmaster and mentally notes the various elements that the constructicons will be searching for, "Hey Catechism you might want to fix the collapsed bit in place with a quick weld to ensure it does hold. Though i'm sure Mixmaster would have thought of that already." Dreadwind's cold yellow optics stare at Fleet as he edges away. "Right," Scavenger says, "Titanium and Hafnium isotopes, maybe Niobium...got it." His shovel glows pink as he sets it to seek. "You really think we can find a substance like that here in this head?" Catechism mutters, "Welds. Yeah. Those are more of a... Constructicon thing." Catechism doesn't have a welder. She says loudly, "I'm sure Scavenger does fabulous welds." Taking advantage of someone known to have poor confidence by buttering him up? Quite possibly. She inquires, "Do you know what way we're going yet, Scavenger?" She continues to toss that grenade from hand to hand, almost as a nervous habit. "There's Titanium everywhere in here, and analysis of the special components in the Sweeps show traces of the alloy I'm looking for," Mixmaster replies, watching Scavenger carefully, and with eager anticipation. "We just need to find a larger, harvestable SOURCE, which should reside somewhere in this cavernous cranium." "M-me? Fabulous welds? Hey, thanks! Ya know, I have a little trick I do when I'm welding...I'll show you sometime." Scav points his shovel toward a section of the echoing chamber which is blocked by a massive and sprawling mess of slag and twisted metal. "Getting a strong signal in this direction, Catechism," Scavenger says confidently, "and you should be able to blow this arch without causing too much damage to the load-bearing members. Or, if you want, I can shovel it out. I've pretty good at that."" Fleet looks over at Dreadwind, who is staring at him with cold yellow optics, and gives a faintly confused look back, one that seems to ask, 'Why are you looking at me?' He turns to watch the others, looking very attentive - and he probably is, since he would want to know when is a good time to run. Catechism throws the grenade back and forth a few more times, striding closer to the arch confidently. Then, her hands twist, and she cracks the grenade open. Catechism pulls out the internal explosive, tugging at the control wires with her teeth. She jams the explosive up on the arch. Then, she snaps one of the wires, turns, and runs. THOOM. An explosion rocks the area. One blocked passageway, opened enough so that Bonecrusher and Scavenger can clear it. Catechism raises her hands to her mouth and shouts cheerily, "Boys!" but in the echoes of the explosion, she thinks she hears laughter... Bonecrusher rubs his chin and frowns, a special Bonecrusher maneuver that none of the other Constructicons can do. "Well... nah, I think you've got the right idea, but I'd wrap some detcord around that pillar over there, whats lookin' like some kinda brain thing," he replies to Catechism, after long and ponderous thought. "You got any on ya? I got plenty." Mixmaster covers his head as the explosion fills the decapitated remains of Unicron with intense noise and strange reverberations. It couldn't be anything /other than/ reverberations, because Unicron is quite dead. "Ahem. Yes, Scavenger, Bonecrusher, clear the way! Make room for SCIENCE!" Dreadwind sees the confused look from Fleet, he considers saying something immediately but what would be the point he wouldn't listen, though Fleet does make the mistake of talking directly to Dreadwind. "Evaluation, judgement of just how long you have left to live, how many sorties you will survive before your final shutdown. Unfortunately i have to know these things now, apparently it's all part of getting others killed, for furthermentof teh Empire, if you can believe that..." Dreadwind neither flinches nor shifts as the explosive charge detonates, pain and suffering will come for him no matter what he does so why bother trying to hide it. Hi-Test however does flinch on his shoulder perch, but quickly looks back to see what damage has been done, "Nice, get to it, with luck we'll get the stuff we're looking for and out without a hitch." "Right, let's get to breakin'!" grunts Bonecrusher enthusiastically, engine roaring as he transforms and grinds forward to clear the ground with his gleaming blade. Bonecrusher collapses to the ground, rearranging and expanding to become a huge bulldozer. Fleet actually didn't say anything out loud, so he's rather startled when Dreadwind appears to read his mind! He tilts his head and gives Dreadwind a now-genuinely baffled looks. "Uhm... yes, sir," is all he says. "Whoah," Bonecrusher's gruff voice calls back from a ways ahead as he and Scavenger swiftly get through the wreckage. "There's some kinda green gunk in a hole up here. Green means acidic, right?" Komatsu D575A Superdozer pushes some of the wreckage into it to see what happens. Komatsu PC5500 Excavator is rocked by the blast and makes a soft sound of fear as the whispers in his head suddenly and briefly rise to become a chorus of murderous suggestion. Once they die down, he trundles forward to begin the work of clearing a passage through the rubble. "The readings are definitely up here. But I'm also picking up something else...high hydrogen ion activity. I'd say that's acid, yes." Blurble! With a burst of heat and light, the wreckage is quickly consumed by the acid, soon becoming nothing more than gas bubbles, which rapidly pop in the thin, stale air. "Why would you want these in yer BRAINPAN," wonders Bonecrusher, engine idling. Catechism tromps along after the boys in green, her footfalls heavy. If the floor can support a bulldozer and a power shovel, it can blasted well hold her up, though she doesn't even put that much thought into it. As she comes up behind Bonecrusher and Scavenger, she peers at the acid for a quick moment before directing, "Anti-gravs. Just skate over the pits quickly, to the other side." Catechism has no answers for Bonecrusher's query. But the pits are a safety device, sort of like the blood-brain barrier in humans. Weirdwolf says, "Too lazy to comm you himself, Boomslang is. BARRAGE! STATUS!" Mixmaster watches the acid bubble merrily. "could be a coolant, or a defensive measure, to keep unwary bulldozers from going where they shouldn't." Mixmaster replies, eyeing the acid but he doesn't have the right equipment to take a sample of such a volatile liquid. He came here for /alloys/! He follows along behind Catechism, optics constantly flicking around to look at everything. Barrage returns only silence, a good indication he's down for the count. Dreadwind's moment of insight seeing into Fleet's mind passes as quickly as it came, much like the time he saw the terrible truth of existence itself. He would elaborate at depressing and expansive length on his terrible predicament to Fleet, but he is distracted by the talk of acid, "Acid, great we'll be able to feel our skins slowly being eaten away, then once a hole is formed it will drip into our internal systems destroying our servos and eating through our energy lines, a terribley slow and inescapable death." Hi-Test sighs and tries to keep everyone sharp and mindful of the task in hand, "Okay so we'll have to watch for that and anything else that might be damaging, who knows what else might suddenly appear, keep your eyes peeled people." Dreadwind waits for everyone to move off before bringing up the rear or it just took him that long to bother to get himself moving. Weirdwolf says, "BUG IS DOWN." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Relying on an Insecticon? You must be losing your edge Wolf!" Weirdwolf says, "Shut up, impudent fool!" The bulldozer noisily and awkwardly pulls itself up into a dense, compactly built green robot about twenty feet tall. Bonecrusher floats awkwardly into the air and hovers over to the far side. "Stuff stinks." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I am neither impudent nor foolish, you gearheaded advice guru!" Komatsu PC5500 Excavator transforms and activates his anti-gravs, floating fairly easily over the pits. The occasional spurt of acid does not deter him, though he catches a few burning drops on top of one foot. Once back on the ground, he heads left. "This way," he says, "not much further now, I imagine." With a quick ratcheting sound, the green and purple excavator lifts up on its treads to become Scavenger! Weirdwolf says, "...Understand, I do not. Advice, I do not deal. I should though! I AM AWESOME!" Fleet follows along behind the others. In fact, he takes the rear, which is, in and of itself, not the safest of positions, but at least he's got the straightest shot when running away. He turns around once as he walks, then faces forward. "Well, there's only so much further we've got available, I would imagine. The head is only so big." Bonecrusher becomes somewhat more agitated as he follows Scavenger into the deeper areas of the head. "Why do we gotta keep this thing around, anyhow? Giant head, just floating, not getting used for anything. We should wreck it all an' smelt it down on the surface! Darkmount's got smelter facilities could handle it! Why do we gotta come up here and mess with it ourselves?" The atmosphere above the pits is oppressively acrid, as if the fumes themselves have something of the fell hunger of their master, eager to devour. Underneath the scent of the acid, there is the stink of something else, something that is hard to quantify. To Catechism, it smells like goose. Cooked goose. She just hates it when those buggers get in her engines. She could flame out, crash... she teeters as she hovers over the pit, just thinking about that horrid crawling feeling... Combat: Catechism compares her Agility to 75: Success! ...but Catechism snaps out of it just as a blob of acid comes flying at her. She lands on the other side, shaking just a little. Mixmaster eyes the roiling, bubbling acid, as it seems to rise up intently towards the soles of Mixmaster's boots, on the verge of leaping up to swallow him despite the afct that he is floating safely above the viscious fluid's surface. He looks ahead, as the dark tunnels seem to stretch out forever, like they're heading right down into the gullet of some vast, vile creature. "Um, actually... I think I will... Prepare my lab." He says, backing away, squeezing past Fleet in the process. "Yes. My lab must be prepared to accept the samples, which you all will collect, and then deliver to me. In my lab!" Fleet moves against the wall as Mixmaster squeezes past him. He peers out over the bubbling pits, frowning. Something about them bring to mind the wastelands of the Dead Universe, and he can't help but growing fearful at the thought. However, Fleet is quite used to acting despite fear. He activates his antigravs and zips over the pit as quickly as possible, twisting in the air to avoid one of the blobs of acid. Then he lands gently next to Catechism, looking back over the pits. "How much farther in do we need to go? This is... this is realm that mechanoid is not meant to traverse, and believe me, I know that sort of area when I see it." Scavenger is liking this place less and less. He hunches a bit and looks above him, suddenly certain that something is on the ceiling watching as the Decepticons advance deeper into Unicron's head. "I HOPE it's not much further. The reading's getting a little weird, but it's still steady. Should be off in this direction." He leads the party down a corridor, his shovel still glowing as it bobs on the end of his weird tail. Catechism grins, despite the fact she doesn't really feel it, and suggests, "If mechanoid wasn't meant to go here, perhaps we should send Hi-Test, hmm?" She sprints off down the corridor that Scavenger has suggested, despite her joking. Then something wet-feeling, with many, many segments wraps itself around her ankle, twists, and drags. Knocked off her feet, Catechism grabs at the floor and hollers, "Oh, blast it all!" Something larger than her and vaguely star-shaped has wrapped a tendril around her. It has many tendrils, clutched around wire bundles, almost as if it serves as some strange, semi-mobile insulation system. The reading Scavenger has been following comes from inside the creature. "Whoah!" exclaims Bonecrusher, turning around at Catechism's cry. "It's a... a..." Bonecrusher never went to college. "Shoot it!" He pulls his little Constructicon laser and opens up on the astrocybercite that's glommed onto Catechism. "Whoah!" exclaims Bonecrusher, turning around at Catechism's cry. "It's a... a..." Bonecrusher never went to college. "Shoot it!" He pulls his little Constructicon laser and opens up on the astrocybercite that's glommed onto Catechism. Weirdwolf says, "Painfully incompetent, all of you are! RRGHH!" Scavenger says, "You're not the first person to say that." Fleet tiptaptiptaptiptaps down the corridor after Catechism. It's his usual quick, light step, only quicker and lighter. Because Catechism is first, when she's grabbed he's able to leap back. "That's... that's... see, I warned you," he says, lifting his right arm to fire a freeze ray at it. Weirdwolf says, "SHUT UP YOU SHOVEL." Boomslang says, "You're lucky we even came to help you, Witless. What were you doing there with that Insecticon? If this was a raid, what did you get?" Scavenger says, "O.K." Frenzy says, "I'm not riding on you anymore, Weirdwolf! You could've avoided that Beam!" Weirdwolf says, "Slowing me down, you are..." Weirdwolf says, "Barrage started it!" Boomslang says, "Oh, okay. We can all blame the Insecticon." Boomslang says, "That's not sarcasm, by the way, we really can all blame the Insecticon, I recommend it highly." "Good grief!" Scavenger jumps back and pulls his pistol as the creature wraps a tendril around Catechism. "That's where the alloy is! In the core of that...tentacle monster!" He applies laserfire liberally. Mixmaster has disconnected. Boomslang says, "Uhhh, that's okay, it's behind us." Dreadwind watches dispassionately as Catechism sprints off in search of her gold mine of materials only to be grabbed by something that he distinctly warned could be lurking about, but as usual no one listened. He considers just watching to see if Catechism can escape herself after all if she dies then they can all just go home and try to forget about ever coming here. If only there wasn't that annoyingly incessant little voice saying something about inter division cooperation, so he meets the voice half way, "Fleet, acceptable reflex timing, end that things suffering and get Catechism free of it at once." The astrocybercite tries to drag Catechism closer, preparing a vesicle, so that she may be ingested and digested. The little shots open wounds it in it, leaking out a clear fluid, though the little holes quickly fuse. Fleet's frost ray makes the astrocybercite pause for just a moment, and it looks a bit more brittle than before. Meanwhile, Catechism kicks and struggles, swearing, "I'll reprogram you backwards with a soldering iron!" "It's got her, its tentacles are all over her!" yells Bonecrusher, still affected by the fear radiation. "This is just like that time we went to Japan to investigate that kissing powerup technology!" He steels himself and charges the hentai neuron, pounding at it and trying to tear it open with his heavy fists. Fleet hmmms as he sees that the freeze ray appears to get a better reaction than the other shots. He glances back at Dreadwind and nods. "I'll attempt it, sir." Then a small handle flips out of his forearm and lands in his right hand. He activates it, revealing it to be the hilt of a sort of ice-energy dagger, then he dives in, attempting to strike at a segment of the... thingy not being attacked by Catechism, the ice-generation aspect on its best charge. Scavenger tries to fire at the brittle spots left by Fleet's freeze ray, but it's difficult to aim as his processor explodes with fear and his optics start to fuzz out. He isn't necessarily afraid of the astrocybercite, though that isn't helping his courage any. It's the whispers in his head that tell him to fire at his fellow Decepticons that terrify him. To his credit, he holds steady, though he knows no one will know of his internal triumph. Dreadwind sighs heavily as the attacks seem to be working but are taking far too long at least for him anyway, it also doesn't help that Hi-Test is still cajoling him to actually do something. His lack of urgency allows him to see that the thing leaked fluids and fluids can be evaporated with sufficient applied energy. Almost casually he draws his thermal melters and sends a barrage of fire into the creature's central mass, then he apparently talks to it as if it is sentient, "Death is all you are, but know this, your time is at an end, there will be nothing more for you, you are free now." As Bonecrusher bashes a hole in the embrittled astocybercite that it cannot autoseal, a gush of fluid drains from the creature. It starts to go limp, tentacles failing and lashing out, due to being unable to maintain internal pressure. Scavenger's short widen the gash. Electricity starts to arc over the astrocybercite, perhaps some kind of signaling mechanism. Catechism starts to look a bit fried - and then Fleet's stun dagger shorts the dying thing entirely, and it goes still, as Dreadwind speaks its eulogy. Then it is explodes in a shower of mess. Catechism is rained on by a shower of neuromechanical gore. She levers herself up and starts to wipe her face, clear disdain showing, but she manages to grunt out, "Thanks for the save." In the pile of parts left, the nucleus sac seems fairly intact. "Ugh!" Fleet exclaims as the thing explodes gore all over him. He scrambles backwards and slaps at his arm with his free hand. "Gedditoffgedditoffgedditoff!" Scavenger pays no attention to Fleet as he steps toward the nucleus sac. "There," he says, "that...horrible bag of...stuff. That's what we need." He looks about. "I suppose I'll be the one carrying it." Disgusted, he scoops the sac up off the floor and cradles it. Dreadwind just stands there and holsters his rifles, by some quirk of fate he is missed by all the bodily entrails of the exploding creature except for a tiny patch of goo that lands on his shoulder. "Great everyone survived, that doesn't bode well at all. Can we just get what we came for and leave before the others come, there are always others, usually bigger and nastier and also upset that one of them is dead." Dreadwind is correct - looks like that astrocybercite was signaling to its friends! Some round, blobby metal creatures, smaller but more numerous, come tumbling down the hall, secreting a horrible glue. Catechism, twitches, looking at them. Very deliberately, she turns, noting that Scavenger has the goods. So she shouts, like any reasonable Decepticon in her place, "Decepticons, RETREAT!" Then she runs. Fleet retreats with a practiced swiftness! Combat: Fleet begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Scavenger, Dreadwind, and Catechism But not swift enough. :( Dreadwind is always correct, but also he is universally ignored by others even when he is speaking the truth of life, existence is cruel that way and especially so to him. When Catechism yells for the retreat instead of running he merely turns and starts drifting back the way they had come, running is just so much effort especialy when you have the built in ability to fly. "Great so it will be the slowest of us that is left behind, alone, to be slowly consumed in the darkness." Scavenger does not have to be told twice! He engages his anti-gravs and makes haste back to the main chamber. "I'll get the shuttle ready!" Bonecrusher jogs heavily after Scavenger. "I'll help Scavenger get the shuttle ready!"